


The most important prize

by Midori (Furima)



Category: Croatia national team, Football - Fandom, World Cup 2018 - Fandom
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Comfort Sex, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, IDGAF, Silver is the new Gold
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-20
Updated: 2018-07-20
Packaged: 2019-06-13 09:19:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,031
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15361266
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Furima/pseuds/Midori
Summary: In this AU you are Vrsaljko's girlfriend. The result of this World Cup affected a lot of people, especially him, and it's your duty to comfort him.





	The most important prize

**Author's Note:**

> For all my fellow Vrsaljko fans, I really hope you like this ♥

Finally, the day of the so-long-expected Football World Cup finale had arrived. Just like a Croatia, for one of your many reasons was that your boyfriend played on that team. You knew you could trust in the individual skills of everyone and on their teamwork, because lot of people in the world, you were so excited, so nervous. Of course you’d be cheering for those were the things that allowed them to come this far. But you couldn’t ignore the fact that the French team was a dangerous rival. What you wanted most was seeing your team demolishing them and being showered in the glory they deserved, as they had worked so hard during the entire competition. The Croatian team had reached such an high spot, they were making history, they made a whole nation proud of themselves. Šime had facetimed you the night before to see you and hear your voice one more time before going to sleep. “Your voice inspires me, it makes me play better”, he assured. Maybe that was true, as his performance on this tournament had been excellent: you couldn’t be more proud of him. Although you couldn’t be in Russia for the game, your spirit and your whole support was there with him. “ _How?_ ”, you wondered, “ _how can he look so relaxed, when they are a few hours away from such an important event?_ ” His smile was just as bright as ever and the look on his eyes was full of love. On the contrary, you were an anxious mess, as if you were the one who was supposed to run behind that ball. After hanging up, his words kept resonating in your head. “We can beat them. We will, I’ll win for you, for everyone in Croatia, we’ll come back holding our heads high”. Sleeping at night wasn’t easy; you kept tossing and turning, thinking, wondering and worrying.

You don’t know what time it was when you finally fell asleep, but it felt like the alarm rang mere minutes after you made it. The match would start at 5pm in Croatia and the time between your breakfast and the game felt like an eternity. In the afternoon, you prepared everything to watch it: your checkered jersey, hat, even a light red and white scarf, some snacks and drinks as well; you sat on the couch in front of your TV and you wore a special necklace Šime had given you as your second anniversary gift. It was a silver chain with a pendant of your favourite gemstone. You cherished that accessory because it came from him and it made you feel like he was there with you. Paying attention to the closing ceremony wasn’t easy, as you were so anxious for the game. ” _Croatia has to win, they can’t lose_ ”, you thought. You weren’t ready to see your dear players who put their hearts and souls into this tournament crying if it wasn’t with joy. 

Watching this match was distressing from start to finish. The attitude of the French players, the referees’ “mistakes” in favour of the other team, that penalty that shouldn’t have been; it was a rollercoaster of dolour. You were devastated when you heard the final whistle and the commentators announcing France’s victory. Being in complete shock, you dropped the TV remote control. You didn’t care about it hitting the floor and its batteries coming out. Your eyes were wide-open, and they got full of tears that started rolling down your cheeks. A sharp pain invaded your chest, it felt like your heart was breaking. Putting both hands over your sternum, as if trying to contain the heartache, you closed your eyes and started to sob uncontrollably. It was unbelievable, how close the Croatians were to achieving the cherished golden trophy, and how easily it slipped right through their fingers like sand. The cameramen forced everyone to watch the French team celebrating, running around with the joy of becoming champions of the World Cup. You could barely watch through the humidity in your eyes and when they did closeups of the Croatian players, your sadness intensified. Seeing them suffer in silence, with misty eyes and clear sorrow in their faces made you feel a hundred times worse. Vrsaljko’s face in particular was the most painful one to watch, because you knew how much he wanted to win for all the Croatians, he had told you this himself the night before. The TV remained on, but you stopped watching it as you cried in absolute despair, not because they lost, but because of the injustice.

The Croatian team arrived on Zagreb as expected and hundreds of thousands of people were there to receive them. Everyone loved them, and they were treated like the heroes they were. Of course they would’ve preferred to have them return with the gold prize, but this was no small accomplishment and it was acknowledged. You were there to celebrate with the rest and mainly to see your beloved partner again. Once the celebrations were over, you and Šime went back home in Zadar. He didn't seem depressed like you feared he'd be, your boyfriend appeared pretty optimistic about their second place and you were relieved to think it hadn't affected him as much as you imagined. After entering the house you two lived in, you hugged him tightly, because once again you were together, with no one else around or between you. But his embrace wasn’t the same, it felt cold and distant. You released him and looked at his face, only to notice he was staring at the floor, eyes half-closed, looking empty, devastated. This wasn’t right, he didn’t seem so down moments before crossing the door.

“Šime, my dear, are you okay?”, you asked him with your sweetest voice.

He tried to lift his head to look at you in the eyes to reply and tell you what he was feeling, but no words managed to escape his lips before he fell to his knees and slammed the small portion of floor between the two of you with his fists. Your lover’s eyes became waterfalls, he cried with anguish. You didn’t see this coming but you quickly kneeled to be on his level. You put your hands on the sides of his head, under his ears, to hold him as you questioned him again. 

“We lost, (Y/N)! We couldn’t make it!”, he yelled, frowning, with his eyes closed. “The French defeated us and took the trophy. We couldn’t beat them and bring that prize home. Everyone in Croatia was counting on us and we failed”, he explained.  
“You didn’t fail, sweetheart! It wasn’t your fault, it really wasn’t”, you tried desperately to comfort him. “Those French men didn't behave like football players, they were actors, and the referees gave them everything they needed to win”, you told him. Not only did you want him to cheer up, it was true.  
“Our country’s whole population, all four million of them,” he mumbled avoiding your eyes, as if he hadn’t heard you, “were expecting us to win and bring glory to Croatia, but we couldn’t… We…”, his words being cut off by his own sobbing.  
“But sweetheart, don’t--” you tried to say before he cut you off.  
“I couldn’t win for you!”, the man screamed, finally looking at you.

His eyes were red, his face was covered in his own tears and his lips were quivering; he was clenching his fists so badly his knuckles had turned white. Your lover had never looked like this before, but you knew you had to be strong and resist your urge to cry with him, because he seriously needed some consolation. He lowered his head again, closed his eyes and kept weeping in this position. You spent a moment in silence as he did, mentally choosing your words not to make this situation worse.

“Please, Šime, look at me”, you begged. “Open your eyes and look into mine”.

It wasn’t easy, but after a few seconds he did it. He knew he could be vulnerable with you and expose his deepest complexes. His glassy eyes were noiselessly imploring for some comforting, the pain he felt was immense, he couldn’t break free from it to recognize the positive side of being the world’s second best team. 

“Listen to me, don’t pay attention to the negative thoughts in your mind”, you ordered and he nodded. “You and the rest of your team gave it all on every single match. You were victorious against countries that everyone else expected to win. Croatia had never reached the final, but you guys beat all odds and did. Lots of fans from all over the world were supporting you on that last game. They were moved by your intense love for your country, for this sport, by the relationships between you and your teammates”.

“But we--”, he tried to protest, unclenching his fists.

“Even though you didn’t win that trophy”, you continued, interrupting him, “you earned the love and respect of the whole world, and that’s priceless and far more important than some _cup_. No one was disappointed with how you played because each of you did your best and the only reasons that allowed your rivals to win were their ability to pretend and the referees’ biased decisions. Maybe they won, but their way of doing it was nasty, disgusting, unjust. You never received any help from the referees in any of your matches. And you saw the magnitude of the celebrations after the final. To every Croatian, you are the actual champions”, you assured.

Šime’s face lit up and he smiled shyly; the tension on his body was gone, as well as the weight he felt over his shoulders. This was exactly what you wanted, seeing him like this again. You caressed one of his cheeks with the back of your hand as he gazed fondly at you. Your eyes locked and he was expectant.

“You are the champion in my heart”, you proclaimed, resting your hand on his chest.

This sentence seemed to change everything for him. You felt his heart started racing after hearing this. All of sudden, he kissed you very passionately; it was his way to thank you for your encouragement. His love for you was sincere and pure, so receiving all these beautiful words from you served as a soothing balm to his soul. His hands moved to grab your waist, and your arms embraced his neck. The kiss got more intense as his tongue tried to slip into your mouth. Of course you parted your lips to allow this and enjoyed it greatly, both of you were extremely hungry for each other. How long had you wished to run your fingers through his hair again. Ever since he left for Russia you had been waiting for a new chance to do it and this was it. His hair was wet, but soft as always and the sensations of touching it now were more powerful than ever. You had to break the kiss for air, and found the two of your breathing heavily after standing back up. Šime whispered your name as he looked at you, his eyes now full of lust. Swiftly, you were lifted off your feet and he carried you away in his strong arms. When you saw he was heading towards the bedroom, you couldn’t help but smirk in anticipation.

Šime gently dropped you on the bed. It had been over a month since last time he did. He took his shoes and socks off and then helped with yours. After that, he crawled on top of you and locked lips with you again while unbuttoning your blouse (what a good idea it was to choose one of those to wear today!). You lifted his shirt impatiently to expose his torso, and oh my, what a good sight that was. Feasting your eyes on him, you bit your lip and finished what he started with your top clothing, throwing it away from the bed. Removing your bra wasn’t an issue, as he unclasped it with ease. Then it was his time to feast his own eyes on your bare breasts, but he wouldn’t just stare at them lovingly, he wanted to go beyond. He left a trail of kisses from your neck to one of your boobs, where his mouth stayed for a while and with his hand he fondled the other nipple, making you moan. Upon hearing this, you could feel him grinning against your skin: your boyfriend was doing great there. Both of his hands then moved down to help him remove his pants, and you did the same to yours.

“This has to go too”, he declared right before getting rid of your panties. “And from the looks of it, you want them gone as well”, he added after noticing how wet you were down there.

He loved teasing you, although his own eagerness was just as noticeable. It was impossible to ignore the erection that pressed against the fabric of his underwear as he kneeled between your legs. But two could play that game.

“Well then, I guess this one too”, you said as you brushed one of your hands against his boner.

He shivered as you stroked him in such a sensitive part. Being touched like this again had been in his dreams since he left for the World Cup. You then slipped your fingers down the waistline of his boxers and slowly slid them down until they reached his ankles. He kicked them out of the bed and you stared in awe at his cock. ” _Had it always looked this good?_ ” you wondered, due to how much time had passed since last time. One of your hands made its way and took hold of it, making Šime let out a sigh. It was so hot when he did. You caressed his hardness with your thumb, still gazing at it. It was such a marvelous feeling, he threw his head back with his eyes closed and sighed again. You were enjoying this, but you wanted to feel it inside you, you couldn’t wait any longer resisting this heat between your thighs. And you let him know.

“Šime, take me already”, you pleaded.  
“As you wish, _ljubavi_ ”, he replied smirking.

In a matter of seconds he got on top of you, his figure looming over your body. Your heart was racing, you were more than ready, so you wrapped your arms around his torso. Making eye contact, he used one hand to carefully help his member go through your entrance, a whimper escaping your mouth. Once he was completely sheathed inside you, he stopped for a moment to appreciate the sensation. You felt so full, and he enjoyed the pressure of your muscles tensing around his dick. Afterwards, he partially pulled out only to push himself back inside you, making you utter a breathy moan. He shifted so now his forearms supported him and his body weight wasn’t all over you, and he kept repeating the motion with his hips, filling you with so much pleasure. Spreading your legs so he could go deeper, you bit your lip, surrendering to satisfaction.

“Fuck”, he whispered, “I really missed this”, he added before resting his head on your neck and leaving sloppy kisses there.

Listening to him swearing in bed was an additional aphrodisiac. His voice was low, and his grunts made you smile. One of your hands, in a restless manner, reached out to ruffle his hair; it looked so much better when it was messy. Vrsaljko loved it when you played with his hair, so he chuckled, but then his thrusts got faster and harder. This change made you cry his name, and that only invigorated him, as he humped even quicker into your core.

As he felt he was getting closer to reaching his limit, he attempted to pull out of you, but when you noticed what he intended, you whined while slightly digging your nails on his back, convincing him not to do it, so he kept going until you got to your climax. At that moment you involuntarily arched your body upwards, getting to a peak of pleasure that didn’t allow you to think at all or control any of your spastic movements; you could only maffle his name. Your walls tightened around his cock, further stimulating him and bringing him closer to ejaculating. His way of humping got more erratic and he ground his teeth trying to ride out your orgasm, but soon enough he reached his own. He gripped your thighs, threw his head back and screamed your name as he shot his seed all over your insides. A few more weak thrusts followed his climax, and it was over.

Vrsaljko let himself fall next to you, and stared at the roof for some seconds, just like you. At some point you turned to face him and you realized he had the biggest dorky smile you had ever seen; the sight of this made you giggle and it was contagious for him. You both were so exhausted but satisfied, this was exactly what you needed. You spent a minute or two contemplating each other as your lungs and hearts recovered from the intense activity. Finally you approached your lover and hugged him, resting your head on his shoulder. He wrapped an arm around you as his other hand lied on his abdomen.

“Who cares about that gold trophy?”, he said, breaking the silence.  
“Wha--”, you tried to ask.  
“The best prize I could ever get is your love”, Šime added.

Maybe it was the circumstances in which he said this phrase, but you found it extremely sweet; you didn’t care if it could have sounded sappy to others, to you it was the most enchanting thing he could have said. You reached out to kiss him in the lips one more time before your eyelids got too heavy to keep your eyes open.

“Good night, princess”, he said, yawning.  
“Sleep well, my prince”, you replied, as your mind drifted away to a land of dreams.


End file.
